


children show scars like medals (lovers use them as a secrets to reveal)

by lexa_lives_in_us



Series: Janaya Week 2020 [1]
Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Janaya Week, Janaya Week 2020, Past Abuse, Primal Sources, Scars, Soft Girlfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:14:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22315387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lexa_lives_in_us/pseuds/lexa_lives_in_us
Summary: Janaya Week - Day 1: ScarsAmaya takes her time to admire her, still disbelieving that this woman is really hers to keep and love.Janai’s features are smooth and peaceful.Amaya’s gaze wanders, in awe, studying every single detail and finally, finally realizing what’s amiss.Janai’s skin is smooth as silk.
Relationships: Amaya/Janai (The Dragon Prince)
Series: Janaya Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1606216
Comments: 33
Kudos: 140
Collections: Scars





	children show scars like medals (lovers use them as a secrets to reveal)

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Past referenced violence/abuse  
> As I was finishing to write, I grabbed my potted plant and tried to drink it, instead of grabbing my cup. If the story doesn't make sense, it's cause I was sleep deprived when I wrote it and I'm too lazy to proof read it.   
> ENJOY!

> **Day 1 - Scars**  
>  **Janaya Week 2020**

* * *

Amaya realizes it after almost six months of relationship.

It’s not that she doesn’t notice, really, but it clicks only after a solid half a year.

Janai doesn’t have any scars.

The two of them aren’t exactly the best when it comes to keep their hands to themselves, and they end up sleeping together quite early into their relationship.

Which, considering the aftermaths of the war, the new kingdom to organize, Lux Aurea to evacuate and the whole mess that Viren left to fix, means that the two of them actually spend very little together in the first month.

They don’t really care and they don’t really pay attention to how long it’s been or how many dates they’ve gone together.

They know they are both bound to duties they can’t dismiss, and they are aware of the other’s commitments and obligations.

They have both lived with little and survived with even less, and just the idea of having someone, somewhere in the world, who thinks about them before going to sleep and loves them with all their heart is worth more than anything else.

When they do finally manage to find some time and space for themselves, one night after two months spent separate, they lock themselves in Amaya’s chambers in Katolis and don’t leave the room until the Sun is up.

Amaya is not blind, and she’s mapped Janai’s body with all she has: eyes, fingers, lips…

But it doesn’t really occur to her until one day, a cold summer day, when she’s bathing in the river outside the city, her girlfriend contentedly sun tanning on the shoreline.

Amaya looks at Janai, absolutely perfect under the gentle streams of light coming from the morning sun, her amber skin glistening under a thin layer of sweat, her eyes closed and her hair wrapped into a scarf at the top of her head.

She’s sleeping, and Amaya takes her time to admire her, still disbelieving that this woman is really hers to keep and love.

Janai’s toned legs are half crossed, her golden tattoos creating an even starker contrast against her skin.

Her arms are resting at her sides, and Janai’s features are smooth and peaceful.

Amaya’s gaze wanders, in awe, studying every single detail and finally, finally realizing what’s amiss.

Janai’s skin is smooth as silk.

Not a single scar mars her perfect body, not a single line that hasn’t been tattooed interrupts the canvas that is Janai.

Amaya frowns.

It’s not that she’s disappointed, really.

She wouldn’t wish scars upon anyone, let alone the woman she’s so in love with.

But she does find it weird that a seasoned warrior like Janai, although powerful and capable and skilled, doesn’t carry a single scar of her battles.

Amaya is also quite certain that her fingers have skimmed through some irregularities on Janai’s skin, and yet she does not see any of those under the Sun light.

Quietly, she makes her way back to shore, trying to be as silent as possible.

Love her she might, but she’s not going to pass on the opportunity to scare the living hell out of her.

Which she manages to do, jumping on her girlfriend with cold hands on her side and lips pressing against her warm skin.

Janai jumps awake, squealing under the wet body pressed against hers, and almost elbows Amaya in the face as she tries to break free.

Amaya barely manages to avoid her girlfriend’s attack, pinning her down with a laugh and throwing a leg around her waist, successfully sitting on her stomach.

Janai looks up at her with a scowl, and that only manages to make Amaya laugh harder.

It’s all it takes, really, because Janai looks at her and her pout melts into a soft smile.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she asks, signing half of her question.

Amaya appreciates her efforts. Janai is busy, even busier than her, being the heir to Lux Aurea’s throne and the acting commander of the city’s army. And yet, the Sunfire Elf is actively learning how to use sign language to communicate with her.

Kazi has put together proper lessons for when Janai is in Lux Aurea, while Gren is helping whenever Janai travels to Katolis.

Amaya herself has tried to teach her a couple times, but they have always given up in favor of making out.

They are _really_ not the best at keeping their hands to themselves.

_Just wanted to wake you up._ Amaya explains, a shit eating grin painted on her face.

Janai rolls her eyes.

“I was sleeping so peacefully.”

_I know. So pretty._

A soft blush colors Janai’s features and Amaya beams.

Nothing can make her smile like Janai’s reaction to one of her compliments.

She leans in to press her lips against Janai’s, eliciting a content hum from the Elf.

Only then Amaya decides to slide back on to the blanket they’ve brought with them.

I have a question. Amaya signs, her gaze once again wandering curiously along Janai’s body.

The other woman nods.

_You don’t have any scars… Why?_

She half expects Janai to look down at herself, confused.

Or to turn around and point out some scar that Amaya’s exploration has missed.

She doesn’t do any of the sort.

Janai nods, her brows furrowing, and simply touches her temple with the tip of her fingers, palm down.

“ I know.”

Amaya frowns. She looks at her own body, completely covered in scars, some small and some quite big, red and ugly.

She looks back up at Janai, who is watching her with a bemused expression, almost like she knows what’s going through her head.

“It’s an Elf thing.”

Amaya scoffs.

_Rayla has scars. We all see them._

Janai nods, stretching her arms out before going back to the conversation.

“Do you remember when I told you that all the Elves have a Primal Source that renders them weak?”

Amaya nods.

It had been an interesting conversation, finding out that every Primal Source had a counterpart.

Earth and Sky.

Stars and Ocean.

Sun and Moon.

“We Sunfire Elves are at our weakest when the Moon is full and high in the Sky, just like Earthblood Elves are at their weakest when they climb up mountains or find themselves flying, and so on.”

Amaya nods again. She is not sure what this has anything to do with her question, but she trusts Janai.

“You see Rayla’s scars because she is constantly under the light of the Sun.” Janai explains, pointing then up at the Sky. “If you were to look at her under the full moon, they would disappear.”

Amaya raises her hands to protest that no, it’s not true, that she’s seen Rayla plenty of times at night, and that she still has her scars, but she stops.

She has seen Rayla at night.

But she can’t remember seeing any of the usual scars on her.

Admittedly, she hasn’t really paid attention to that sort of detail, but she can’t even deny Janai’s point.

Amaya blinks up at Janai, who is still looking at her with a smile.

“I have plenty of scars, my Sun.” Janai says and signs, as soft as one can be. “You just can’t see them.”

Amaya, who’s heart has skipped a beat like it usually does when Janai uses that nickname, pouts.

She honest to the Gods pouts and crosses her arms.

Janai laughs at her, and gently prods her hands free.

_But I want to see all of you._ Amaya protests, then. _Scars and all._

Janai leans in to kiss her on her forehead, humming. The vibration against her skin makes Amaya close her eyes for a moment, her whole body melting against that contact.

“You will. We just have to wait for the Moon.”

Amaya immediately looks up, almost trying to figure out how long until she’ll manage to see the Moon rise to the Sky, but Janai shakes her head and catches her attention.

“Full Moon.”

Amaya scoffs and scowls like a child.

_I want it now._

Janai shakes her head and kisses her soundly, and Amaya forgets about the Moon altogether. 

Janai has to depart from Katolis the same night anyway, and the two part ways once again to tend to their own jobs.

Three more months pass before the two of them can finally grab their horses and ride out into the empty fields outside Lux Aurea, bags full of blankets, tents and food to last for a couple of days.

Janai has managed to rope her brother into taking care of the city, and Amaya has literally been sent on a forced vacation by both her nephews and her own soldiers.

Apparently, they all think she needs some quality time with her girlfriend.

Amaya doesn’t really protest. It’s been almost a year since that fateful night at the top of the Storm Spire, and her and Janai still haven’t managed to spend some proper, not-rushed time together, away from duty and war plans and peace treaties.

But now, after weeks of planning and preparing, they have the whole weekend to themselves.

A weekend which, as Rayla has confirmed, will see the full Moon appear.

Amaya is excited.

She is barely containing her impatience as they find a good spot to set camp, the Sun almost asleep behind the mountains and the fire crackling awake not too far from their horses.

Janai keeps looking at her and laughing, aware of Amaya’s impatience and of the reason behind it.

Amaya is grateful that she doesn’t have to explain herself to her girlfriend.

She’s not some sort of creepy fanatic of scars, and she is not curious about them because she absolutely loves scars on a woman.

(She really does, but that’s beside the point)

Nothing of that.

But she loves Janai.

She loves this Elf whose body is strong and heart is even stronger.

She loves the woman who held her close the night before the biggest war of their lives and asked her to teach her some more sign language.

She loves Janai and wants to know everything about her, from the nickname her little brother gave her when they were young to the scars of her body and when she got them.

Amaya is grateful for Janai because Janai simply _gets_ it.

And so they set up their tent, working tirelessly and skillfully and finally settling down for their dinner in front of the fire.

The Moon is starting to rise, and Amaya is just about ready to throw a fit because _of course_ the Sky is clouded.

“You can’t fight the Sky, my Sun.” Janai reminds her with a smile.

Amaya huffs.

_You fucking watch me._

Janai snorts, pushing some food into Amaya’s hands.

She eats, stabbing a roasted potato like she’s personally offended her, but that only manages to make Janai smile even bigger.

They end up chatting in front of the fire, updating each other about this or that meeting, talking about how fast Zym is growing and how tall Ezran is getting.

Amaya’s scowl melts in minutes.

Sitting there, in the middle of an endless nothing, there’s her everything.

She couldn’t be disappointed or unhappy about being there even if she tried.

How could she be, when Janai is looking at her like she really is her Sun, when she’s kissing her like she’s all the air she needs to breathe?

They find themselves pressed against each other, hands trailing under clothes, touching skin, and Amaya forgets the reason they have come there in the first place.

It’s only when Janai gently pushes her away that Amaya remembers.

The Moon is partially covered by the clouds, and when Amaya opens her eyes, Janai is looking up.

Amaya brings her fingers to touch her cheek, and Janai leans into the touch.

Their eyes meet.

“Are you ready?” Janai asks, almost jokingly, but there’s seriousness in her gaze.

Amaya nods.

She watches as Janai stands, turning with her back to her.

Impatiently, but recognizing the importance of sitting still, Amaya watches as Janai makes quick work of buttons and laces, and then the outer layer of her vestige falls on the ground, crumpling.

Underneath, Janai is wearing a sleeveless vest that crosses between her shoulder blades, connecting to the leather like pants that hug the curves of her legs.

Janai makes quick work of them, standing only in her underclothes and chest binding.

She unties that as well, and it slowly unravels to fall at her feet, just like the rest of her clothes.

Amaya is breathless.

She has seen Janai’s naked body countless of times, but she knows she will never grow tired of following those golden lines, of studying every curve and every shape.

She will never grow tired of touching and kissing and loving Janai’s body.

Janai slowly turns around, and finally Amaya can see the look on her face, and she immediately stands up.

But Janai raises a hand, stopping her.

“As much as it worries me what you might think after… I want you to see this. To see _me_.”

Amaya can’t hear the worry and the fear in her voice, but she can see it just as clearly in her girlfriend’s eyes.

She suddenly wonders how many people must’ve seen what she’s about to see.

How many have breached through Janai’s heart deep enough for her to trust them with such an intimate revelation.

She wonders if any of them have looked at Janai’s body and thought any less of her, and if they did, she wonders if it’s morally acceptable for her to commit a murder.

Amaya wants to step forward and take Janai into her arms, hold her like she can shield her from everything, from the Moon itself, but before she can even take a step, the clouds part.

The Moonlight hits Janai’s hair first, then slowly washes over the rest of her skin like lava.

Amaya’s breath itches.

Janai’s body glows in the Moonlight, and the golden tattoo almost disappear under the infinite lines of scars that map her skin.

Many look like burn marks, which Amaya finds absolutely horribly fascinating: she’s seen Janai walk through actual fire, and she has no idea what kind of hell she must’ve gone through if her Sunfire Elf has gotten actually burned.

Just underneath the left breast, three parallel lines mark Janai’s amber skin: they’re light, and almost faded, but that’s where Amaya’s fingers land first.

“It was the first time I approached my tiger. She was young, and wild, and did not like me one bit.” Janai explains, almost carelessly. “I was also young, and wild, and didn’t like her one bit.”

Amaya knows there must be way more to that story, but she doesn’t press.

Her fingertips trace what must’ve been the long nails of the tiger’s paw before moving to the next closest scar.

This one is round, and Amaya has seen too many to not know what caused it.

She side steps to push her palm on Janai’s back and there she finds another rounded scar, a perfect match to the one she can see on Janai’s abdomen.

“The arrow went straight through. Khessa managed to stop the bleeding just in time.” Janai says again, and Amaya can’t believe her words.

The way she describes it makes it sound like a small matter, but Amaya has seen too many corpses carrying those same wounds to believe her.

She looks up at Janai, deciding to ignore her signs and focus on her words when she pronounces them, and there she finds it.

The smallest scar, decorating her upper lip, a never fully healed little injury.

When Janai doesn’t explain right away, Amaya looks up to find her eyes.

Janai shifts from one foot to the other, and her gaze is clouded.

“An ex.” She finally says.

Amaya’s blood boils.

She tells herself that, whoever this ex is, they’re lucky that they’re currently in the middle of nowhere, or she would be going to find them and absolutely _gut_ them.

The fury and pain must show transparently on her face, because Janai’s warm fingers touch her gently on her own scar, grounding her and keeping her to where they are.

Amaya looks down, trying to calm her breathing, and it’s only then that she sees it.

She failed to notice it before, but with the angle she’s at now, it’s impossible to miss.

A long, thick scar runs from just underneath her neck line and across her chest, disappearing in the underarm.

It’s pale, which is probably why she’s missed it before, but it’s ugly, and the skin around it has never fully healed.

Amaya finally remembers feeling it under her fingertips but never really understanding what it was.

Amaya can feel tears burning in her eyes.

She doesn’t care to look weak or too emotional.

A wound like that one usually doesn’t scar.

A wound like that usually kills their owner.

She presses both of her palms against it, and she presses her forehead against Janai’s jaw.

Janai’s arms sneak around her waist, and Amaya abandons herself against the steadiness of her girlfriend.

She’s still fully clothed, and Janai is bare, and yet Amaya feels like she is the naked one, with her feelings exposed, protected only by Janai and her own strong armour made of sheer power and resilience.

When Amaya looks up again, is to kiss Janai.

Is to cup her beautiful, perfect face between her hands and kiss her.

Is to guide Janai’s hands to her own clothes, to help her shed those last layers of fabric between them.

When she looks up again, is to map Janai’s body once again, in an entirely new way.

She traces every scar in awe, in wonder, in absolute veneration.

She kisses every line, every burn mark, every weapon hit with the same love and intensity as she kisses Janai’s lips.

Amaya can’t speak, and tell Janai how much she loves her, how beautiful she finds her, how those scars are part of her and her story and only make her more perfect in Amaya’s eyes.

But Amaya’s never really needed words anyway, so it doesn’t matter.

She loves Janai and she shows her how much.

As for Janai, in a moment when the Primal Sources themselves tell her that she should be at her weakest, she feels like she’s on top of the world.

Because Amaya loves her, and Amaya _gets_ her.

Amaya has scars of her own, and together, they are indestructible.


End file.
